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Puff sighed a little, wobbling. "Wasn't hubris," he muttered. "You're one of the strongest fighters I've met in a long while... I'm just making sure you can't attack back when I'm... weak. Even now, you're still fighting. Don't you remember my old trick?" He got into a stance again and feinted...

"That--" Soda paused, running a claw on his chin. "...Huh, you're right. How about that. What came first, I wonder..." He leaned against the cushion of his seat and mulled it over. "Blacklight's just Joule's Radiance and someone's Shadows, I guess maybe Dark Matter's somehow? So how'd that...

The Cinderace went skidding back and back and back, leaving a trail of actual fire where he slid on the dirt, scorching it in a long line. He was trembling, shaking, definitely bleeding somewhere on or within his body, but he was standing. Standing despite everything. Because he was just built...

"Not a damn clue," Soda replied flatly. "Figure the best person to ask that would be Joule himself, but I bet if it was something critical he'd've told us already. He might not know either."

"Good answer, good answer!" Puff said, but then saw Brisa bringing up her barriers. "Ohh, learning from Owen, are you? Why am I not surprised?" He sounded amused, but he was also taking advantage of the breathing room he'd just given himself. He paced around the arena while Brisa did the same...

Puff went flying across the arena from Brisa's initial volley of attacks. He'd deftly gotten out of the way of a few of them, and yet the attacks kept coming anyway. He couldn't keep up! Brisa's words filled his head and he shook it off. "Gods, you really get into this," he said, holding his...

Puff was kicking a pebble with his feet as his species was apparently naturally talented with. "Howdy to you, too, Brisket," the Cinderace said, kicking the pebble away. "Figure you're ready for a real brawl this time, huh?" "Cinderace Puff, ace reporter for The Truthful Times and the ultimate...

"I imagine a lot of the strategists of your team will have suggestions as well. You've all been fighting long enough to know how well your synergies behave. Some better than others." Diyem rubbed his cheek, then looked at the food. "Mm. I should be going. I've said all I could."

"Tch... we tried," he said, looking off. "Didn't go so well. Too many things were in balance. If we fought him, we'd be putting that whole world, maybe that whole universe at risk, not just us or Arceus or my partner or whatever. And, weird thing is, Cibus was just gonna be a pit stop. We didn't...

"Pretty much that second half. The main difference between what we do and what they do is we don't report to them or anything." Soda shrugged. "Never felt the need to since we're stronger on average, for one, and it'd just slow us down. Every now and then we have run-ins and they hem and haw and...

"If they have a leader, I don't know 'em," Soda said. "Fuck if I know what they did to Diyem. Maybe ask. He doesn't hold 'em in a very high opinion, though, since I don't think he's ever talked to Bean once. Heh..." He smirked. "Think he's in trouble?"

"Foolish," Diyem said, and it was hard to tell which part of Brisa's words he'd responded to. Perhaps it was both and he just never said it. "Worldcore... mm. Yes. Destroying it would probably do a few bad things to the world. Not irreversible, not unsalvageable, but certainly bad. Minor...

"Hmph. Well, let me give you another: All the relationships you intend to start here are not meant to last. Don't aim for anything long-term. Treasure the friendships you make, and... whatever." Diyem looked off. "It is foolish to declare your love for someone when your time here won't even...

"...Assuming we don't all die," Diyem said with what might have been a patient tone, "you will have the time to say your goodbyes before leaving. And until then, I expect a lot of us will be trying to reconcile the relationships being formed here that will ultimately end in returning to...

"Bah." Soda waved dismissively. "They're not. Like, ninety nine percent of them are Big Goodie Two Shoes whatever the fuck. Last one percent are rogue branches that probably get neutralized out or pushed out of the group because they aren't following their mission statement anymore. They...

"...Relationship advice," Diyem said with the deadest pan in all of Cibus. "With what specifically?"

Diyem swept his tail forward and walked a little awkwardly while he inspected it, but there didn't appear to be anything abnormal about it when he looked. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said flatly. "...But I will be careful."

"What are you talking about?" Diyem said, looking back. "Of course I'm not. I'm never in the right mind. Comes with the species." He continued down the road. The flame didn't flash again, but there was no way that had been a hallucination.

"Okay, so. Punishment dimensions. Ended up doing some Overseer work without actually being associated with 'em, since there was one world that was a pretty rough place thanks to mad gods. Did a bunch of liberating and, uh... Well that's how we met Flesh. He was being held captive there as...

Diyem stared at Brisa for a little while, then shook his head. "I imagine you have a natural fear of Psychics. If you want to speak with someone who isn't, there's Bean, and apparently there's also one named Fugu. Samurott. Far from being Psychic. But I don't know how much luck you'll have...